


convenient constellations

by ElasticElla



Category: Black Lightning (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Bittersweet, F/F, Femslash February, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-02
Updated: 2018-02-02
Packaged: 2019-03-12 17:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13552143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticElla/pseuds/ElasticElla
Summary: “I don’t even care about that. It’s that it feels like you’ve been trying to end our relationship lately.”





	convenient constellations

**Author's Note:**

> so this was supposed to be a ~fluffy ot3 fic with grace but uh it more of turned into an ep rewrite, opps?

“-it was just a dance I swear,” Anissa says, and the wind cuts straight through her catsuit. 

“I’m not, ugh,” Chenoa says, folding her arms tightly. “I don’t even care about that. It’s that it feels like you’ve been trying to end our relationship lately.” 

“I haven’t,” Anissa says.

Her laugh cracks the air, brittle and bitter. “Babe, you’ll confide in me about anything, lean on me. But I ask you for a tiny bit of commitment- meet my folks- and you run.”

“I told you I don’t want us to go there.” 

“But why? Just tell me why dammit.” 

“I don’t wanna end up like my parents okay?” Anissa snaps, and fuck that’s way more than she meant to say. She was supposed to let Chenoa break them up, to just let it end easy. 

Chenoa’s face goes soft, reaching for her hands. And damn, there’s already a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. God, she doesn’t deserve this. 

“I’d never let that happen to us,” she promises. 

“Chen you can’t…” Anissa drifts off. 

“If you want us to breakup you’re gonna have to do it. I love you, and I’m not leaving you over a fear that one day we’ll get married and it won’t end perfectly.”

It sounds ridiculous like that, out loud. A slight smile tugs at her lips, and Anissa gives in. “Yeah, okay.” 

“We good?”

Anissa nods, drops a kiss to her lips, Chenoa’s eyelashes fluttering against her cheek. 

“You’re so good, you’d get a sinner to go to church every Sunday.” 

Chenoa laughs, happy vibrations everywhere they touch. “That was so corny.”

“Mhmm, I love you too.” 

Chenoa kisses her once more, wet and quick. “I’m babysitting the cousin’s bookclub tonight.” 

“No marching boots?” Anissa teases, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

Chenoa leans into the touch, “You know if I don’t go it’ll just be her and her dog. Next time.” 

Anissa pouts, Chenoa rolling her eyes. “Apologize to the girl for me, will you?” 

Her eyebrows rise, “You want me to go chat up Halo?” 

“Nerd,” Chenoa says with a rueful smile. “I do trust you. Everything hit me at once tonight.”

Anissa’s grip tightens, “Something else going on babe? You okay?” 

“Yeah it’s… I’m working on it.” 

“If you’re sure. I’ll text you later? Maybe we can do Saturday breakfast or something.” 

“With the family?” Chenoa asks instantly, wincing the moment it’s out. “Don’t answer that.” 

“Yeah,” she says, and her grin is contagious. 

.

The rest of the night passes by in a blur. Grace seems amused if not entirely believing about her relaying Chenoa’s apology and she has to get to the march before she can process that. Jennifer brought Khalil and Anissa can recognize nearly every face in the crowd from church or class. A few community outsiders, a little more time there might have been more- and then there’s the harsh crack of gunfire. 

.

Her hands are trembling when she texts Chenoa back, _im okay w/sis, call when i can, love you._

She has power. If she knew how to use it tonight- if there had been two people trying to save everyone, maybe-

If Chenoa had been with them, oh god if she’d been-

Next time. She’ll be ready next time. 

.

Jennifer’s gone through half the tissues, two cups of the gross hospital coffee, and her phone is dead. Anissa is about to relinquish her own when the nurse comes out, saying they can come in. Squaring her shoulders, Jennifer follows, looking far too old for her baby sister. 

Stretching, Anissa gets up and finally calls Chenoa. 

There isn’t really a good way to say ‘sorry I’ve been distant, what if we move in together?’ And Chenoa would laugh it off, cite studies on why you shouldn’t make life altering decisions right after a traumatic experience. But she’d insist, and Chenoa might give in, and they’d be happy for a while. It’d end- maybe Chen would get sick of her shit, or maybe the superheroing plans would drive them apart, or- 

“Anissa? How you holding up?” 

Or maybe it doesn’t matter, because she’s a coward. 

.

Tiny changes are easier, just a text away. 

Monday night she’s meeting Chenoa’s folks for dinner. It feels like a step closer to inevitability, but not in a bad way like before. Like the future might actually hold something worth running towards.


End file.
